Man After Midnight
by Scriptophobia99
Summary: A story about a woman fighting her own identity while a maniac is looking for the identity she is hiding. When he discovers her true self and what she is hiding from everyone will he expose her or keep her to himself as permanent leverage. Joker/OC, Dark Knight.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys this is a new story I am writing because I just can't get the idea out of my head. It takes place in the Nolan Dark Knight world, with Heath Joker and an OC. Hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback and follow and favorite and all that jazz!

...

Lights spun in the air as music thumped through every nook and cranny in the building. When people first walked up to the dark black warehouse with bass trembling the leaves off the trees that maybe it was a club or a rave that invading the district for one night but for many locals in Gotham they knew exactly what they were walking into. Women would come in 70s style gear, wearing high waisted shorts and petite white t shirts, their hair teased into the perfect Farah waves. While men would often wear either bell bottoms or normal skinny jeans and t shirts that had some sort of 70's or 80's logos for trends of an ancient time. Some were what the owner called "Party Poopers" wearing normal comfy clothes but who could blame them.

When the large black doors were opened, it revealed a large roller rink inside, it's shiny wooden floor of the rink glistening as the lights hit it and old school disco played over the speakers at ridiculous volumes but no one seemed to care as the mad laps around the rink in vintage roller skates. No blades allowed. Around the edges was a guy with a cart selling pizzas and soda for a dollar each, because the name he was making for his local shop was worth more than the pizza slices themselves and on the other side was the woman you paid to get skates, entry cost only 8 dollars a person, with the option to pay a dollar more for unlimited beer from local breweries within Gotham itself.

The woman, while some wouldn't describe her as warm and welcoming, was the owner of the rink. She had long dark red hair that was up in a high ponytail, and a slender body save for her strong legs. She did work in a roller rink after all. She'd great in the typical manner of sticking out her hand to new comers to accept money and leaning in close to hear everyone's shoe size before waving them off with a bored expression. She often popped her gum in response to complaints she got from her customers on her attitude and give a gaze through frighteningly bright crystal blue eyes and sent them running. Some complained that the music was "lame" or "stupid" and her response is to turn it up even louder to drown out anymore talking, period.

Most who came in every night would sit on the counter where she gave out the shoes and chit chat with her and would find is a funny and pleasant woman with a dry wit. She had to act this way because she was considered not only the owner and shoe jockey, but also the bouncer for this rink. On those nights where the beer flowed too freely and rough housing began on the rink, you could see the woman skate her way out to the floor. Most took double takes and scattered immediately, mostly her regulars who knew her better but also some people who saw the large Louisville Slugger over her shoulder, her gum popping boredly as skated up to the fighting pair who immediately looked up and separated. The red haired woman would point at both people with the bat and shake her head and they'd quickly nod in understanding before going on their way and the woman would skate back to her box of solitude.

Once a month instead of its normal 70s theme, the roller rink took on an 80's theme and the people would come in dressed up in bright neon or as punks. Some new faces even rocked a Flock of Seagulls hair do, which she couldn't begin to guess how they achieved but she appreciated the effort and commitment all the same. The woman behind the counter had her hair in a ponytail Mohawk style and instead of her shorts and white t shirt, she wore leather skin tight pants and a Ramones t shirt on and her personal all black roller skates on her feet as she took everyone's money and dealt out skates and beer and stayed relatively busy at first but as usual she began to slow down as all the people who were coming were already there. The 80's music was a much needed change of pace as she kicked up her feet on the counter top and looked through her phone as some classic rock rang through the speakers but the rink went crazy as the song went on over the speakers before the excited yells turned into screams. Her eyes traveled to the floor where she saw a crowd of her patrons were standing up against the wall as men who had guns were pointed at them. The music kept thumping as she lowered her legs slowly as the pizza guy dipped for the back door on his side and she ducked under the counter quickly. She saw her bat under the counter but pushed it out of the way and grabbed the shot gun that was already loaded that rested right behind it. She heard someone knock on the counter above her and she stood up with the gun aimed straight ahead of her, crystal gaze blazing with fire as she looked at the man in front of her.

His face was marked with scars but none so predominant as the one deeply gashed across both cheeks meeting at the corners of either side of his lips. His hair was a mess of greasy fading green curls and eyes a dark brown eyes. His face was done up in a disgusting oil or grease make up that didn't even fill in all the greases. He looked at the gun in her hands and her angry look on her face. His tongue ran over the inside of his cheek, making the scar on his that side stick out more which made the woman's eyebrows furrow in disgust but the gun didn't move from the man's face. A look of innocence passed his face but he seemed unfazed by her gun.

"I just needed a-huh, size eleven please," he stated loudly over the music and her eyebrows furrowed even more as her mouth opened and answered him.

"What?"

"A size 11 should be good. Maybe a 10 1/2. Do you have half sizes?"

"Get out of here," she stated, her voice like venom but he shook his head, greasy curls shaking at the sides of his face before he lifted a hand to slick them out of his face.

"I just need some skates to, uh, go out on the rink and find someone," he leaned over the counter so that the gun was only an inch from the top of his head.

She didn't lower the weapon however, only remained completely still as she thought of exactly how to handle this situation. Her eyes quickly shot over to the rink and saw that the men with guns on her patrons made them sit down on the rink, all aligned along the wall. Some were crying to be let go and others only did as the men asked. Her eyes raised back to the man again, before speaking to him.

"Who are you looking for?"

"A young lady by the name Missy Valentine," he answered truthfully and her eyes flashed gently before lowering the weapon only slightly.

"She's the owner. She's not here tonight," she lied carefully, her blue eyes not leaving his face. He shook his head.

"No we know she is here every night, we just don't know what she, uh, looks like," he stated back to her, "Size 11 please," he repeated and she sighed turned to grab the skates and when she turned back to see two of the man's goons pointing their own guns at her. She threw the skates on the counter top and her own gun as well before raising her hands. "Go out with the rest of them," he ordered bluntly and she hopped over the counter and did so obediently, skating her way over but the other back door slamming open distracted her as she saw her pizza guy thrown back into the rink and she shook her head as he was lead to the rink and walked past her.

"Chicken Shit," she hissed as he past her and he looked at her with a sneer before being pushed to sit on the floor with everyone else and she skated inside, making a circle around to talk to all her regulars with gentle but firm tones to relax and stay clam. Keep their heads and everyone should be fine. Before rolling herself to one of the barrier walls and sitting on top of it with her arms crossed over her chest. She turned her head to watch the man with the scars put on his skates and make his way over to the floor. One of the goons tried to make her sit on the floor like everyone else but she only spat at him. When he raised his hand to react to her in anger the man with scars pushed him back. A purple gloved hand pointed at the other man before waving him away. The woman began taking the pony tail out of her hair before shaking her tresses free and they fell down in a thick water fall of red as the man with scars came to lean next to her on the wall.

"So, who are youuuu?" He asked curiously as the goons began to circle the crowd asking for wallets to begin checking for IDs. Looking for Missy Valentine. The woman looked at the man with fiery eyes.

"Get blown, freak," she hissed viciously and the man took in a breath of air as if impressed.

"Oh, I like a girl who's fiesty," he cooed before putting his hand out, and she got what he was asking for.

"My wallet is in my purse in the back," she stated honestly, "If you go back there, grab my cigarettes I have a feeling it's gonna be a long night," she added with a smirk, "Seeing as Missy isn't here. My name is Rizzo," she added at the end.

"Like from Grease," he stated more than asked. He pushed himself off the wall and walked to her counter, hopping over to grab her things. She saw the contents of her purse get dumped on the counter and her wallet was grabbed before a second hand grabbed the pack of cigarettes and her lighter as well. The freak came hopping back over the wall of her counter before rolling back to her, opening her wallet to see her driver's license inside. Her blue eyes lowered quietly as he looked at her name on the plastic before he rolled all the way back to the wall she was sitting on.

"Your name really is Rizzo? Rizzo, uh, Reyes," he asked coolly before throwing her wallet in the pile with everyone else's. She shrugged coolly, heart pounding almost out of her chest before motioning to the pack of cigarettes in his hand and he handed them to her. She thanked god she thought of changing her name when she separated from her father and his business. She never liked the name Missy or Valentine anyway.

As the goons finished their search, the Freak skated his way to the pile of wallets and began taking the money out of each and pocketing it all. Rizzo slide off the wall to skate over to him, looking at the money being taken from each wallet before crossing her arms again. "I told you she isn't here. She'll be here tomorrow when we open though. She just didn't feel good today so she stayed home," she explained, her eyes raising to look at him and saw that he had been looking at her the whole time, head tilted to the side as if studying her.

"Well I have her address so I'll just, uh, go find her at home," he cooed gently, throwing the last wallet to the ground and skating off the rink, his goons following him as they went. Rizzo looked off after them with a clenched jaw before seeing them all exit with the door giving on final slam as they were all gone. Rizzo exhaled loudly as the people there all did the same as fear had completely overtook them and now they all fell weakly together.

Rizzo picked up her wallet from the pile, opening the front to see that her drivers license, with her address on it, had been taken from it. She bite her lip before throwing her wallet down in anger as the pizza guy called the police behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

With arms crossed over her chest, she had been speaking with the police for so long. When Rizzo explained that her drivers license had been stolen, and the Freak's threat to find the woman at home. The cops suggested staying at the station for the night then finding a hotel in the morning. The rink would be closed for the investigation and her home would have police waiting for the man they called "The Joker". Rizzo assumed it was because he was such a fucking hoot but maybe not. However she stated she would just find a hotel room that night. She knew a couple sleazy places with check-in open 24 hours. They stated they would call her for questions about the incident but also about her unregistered firearm. She knew how much that fine was going to be so was happy to stay in a sleazy hotel for while.

When she was finally able to leave, she ducked out with her helmet in her hand and started up her motorcycle with a rumble that echoed in the space that the music had once thundered through and drove quickly through the streets as her anger had settled in her stomach but was very much there. Why was some dirty street scum after her and why was she needed? People don't just come out if the blue brandishing guns searching for someone for an innocent business transaction. They wanted her for something more serious. The thought of her mother came to her mind and she seethed. She knew it had something to do with her. It had to have. Maybe the Joker worked for her and was looking to get some cash by bringing her home. However she thought that very unlikely, her mother felt the same about Rizzo that she did for her. She was deep in thought, not noticing the motorcycle coming up on her left at fast speeds and the white sedan catching up behind her. It wasn't until the bike on her left was next to her and the driver lifted up their arm and grabbed her handle and tried to pull her over to them. Her eyes glanced over, eyes hidden by her helmet however behind it she was raging again. She took a boot and kicked the other bike with extreme force but they didn't let go. So she lifted herself up slightly and aimed at the stomach of the driver and gave another swift hard kick. The person let go of her bike, swerved and slide on the road before the bike tipped over. She looked behind her and saw the car, her eyes landing on the passenger in the seat. Her eyes narrowed before turning down the road and speeding away, her bike going a dangerous speed as anger ripped at her stomach.

...

"That's not some normal twenty something girl," Joker cooed as he saw her bike reach break neck speeds and his target was off. Try as they could, the sedan was old and wasn't about to hit that sped by a long shot. He sat back in his seat and ran his hand over hair, pushing it back out of his face before some fell right back to where it was. He opened the car window then and leaned out of it to see if a new perspective would help him see her on the road but nothing caught his eye so he pulled himself back in and looked at the driver. "Well, keeping driving, maybe we'll, uh see her again." As he pulled out her drivers license and flipped it over in his fingers, inspecting it, "And if we don't, we'll find her some other way," he stated as he looked at another drivers license, the pizza guy, Robert Reyes.

...

Rizzo had sped off, ducking and dodging between cars with abandon. She had never been exactly a safe driver, but that night she seemed to be even more careless as she pulled off the freeway, ending up in the slums of Gotham, The Narrows. She took several different streets, making sure she wasn't still being followed. She stayed out 2 more hours, making damn sure she wasn't being followed, just taking laps on her bike before finally pulling into a motel with a neon "Open" sign flickering in the window. She walked past two men who looked at the red-haired vixen with wide eyes as they looked at her tight leather pants and tight t shirt, but she brushed them off as she pulled open the door and quickly paid for her room, thanking that she didn't have to have her license for such a seedy little motel.

After she paid for 3 days, she left to see the two guys examining her bike and she stopped and looked at them doing so before just smirking and rolling her eyes. If they really wanted to try and steal her bike, she'd let them. She didn't have it in her to worry about it and she had security measures for it so it didn't matter if the even tried to steal it. She used her room key to open the door of her new home for the next couple days. She supposed she'd go to her home the next day and grab some clothes to last her. She emptied her pockets on the counter, before flopping on the bed , scratching the back of her head as a large sigh emitted from her, annoyance and anger still heated in her chest. She grabbed the remote and flicked on the old TV that the room had. It was ugly and outdated, but it was clean and that's all that mattered. She turned it to the news and began to pull off her boots as the reporter began to speak on the television.

"Breaking News; We are here first to report a break out at Mass Breakout at Akham Asylum-"

"Wow, what's new?" She muttered to herself as she looked up at the screen, pausing for a moment.

"We will say that several high security inmates have escaped, including former Asylum doctor Jonathan Crane who goes as Scarecrow after his attack on the Gotham City Water Supply, The Joker, dangerous Anarchist and his girlfriend Harleen Quinzel, who seems to be the one who orchestrated the escape. Many others have escaped as well, and we urge Gotham citizens to remain vigilant as Gotham PD begins to round up these escaped patients.

In related news, we have breaking news stating that a local roller rink patrons were held at gun point by the Joker himself, worrying police that he is already beginning his terror reign now that he has escaped-"

"Shit," she stated gently, looking back down at her boots as she began went back to taking off her boots, before laying back in the bed. She doubted she'd get any sleep that night, her body now a live wire as continued to watch the television.

"We are warned now that those within The Narrows take caution, as Arkham Asylum is not far from this side of town. Please stay inside tonight, folks. And stay safe."


End file.
